Judge — August 6, 1887 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

‘VE known him now for thrice a year, My friend in the next chamber here. My fellow gurret lodger ! ) Quaint character and quaint! But still a best Ah, rudest boys would scarce molest The queer old codger. His step is out of spring slow ; His coat is out of time I know, All threadbare, shine and wrinkles. His tall, worn hat looks odd’; his tie ‘And collar always seem awry, ENOUGH TO START WITH. Between dear friends. “Do you know that little Mrs. B. pretends to bea collector of antiquities? You don’t be- lieve she really has any, do yes—her certificate of birth to begin with.” A NICE DISTINCTION. Well, Master Tommy, do you eall that manners, to put a piece of cake in your mouth 4 then put it back on tle plate no, papa! I didn’t bite it, only kissed it.” LIFE AND LOVE, yund in an album. If one had to pay to get into life, how many would want their money back on leaving it!” “In love, two sometimes be- come one; but in friendship— never WELL FROZEN. Custom i mea quart of ice-cream, please. Oh, by the way, is it well frozen? I don't like it if it isn’t.” Dealer—“1 should say it was. We've hir- ed a Boston girl to come over and look into the freezer every hour.” Customer —‘‘ Make that two quarts, please.” SOME GOOD AFTER ALL. “It's a long time since we saw you at the club.” “Dve been staying with my uncle.” “Your millionaire uncle ?” “Ts he ill ?” “Seriously so, I fear.” “Alas, money doesn't. bring happi- ness.” “Yes, it does -- it brings happiness to Murruzas MY GARRET NEIGHBOR. His brow shows frost, but then his eye With summer twinkles. I met him on the stairs just now; He passed me with a stately bow Of dignified politeness, Old-fashioned, obsolete as his tile, so kindly all the while, With voice so soft, and such a'smile Of genial brightness ! I've only peeped within his door, And seen a paper-littered floor And hook-shelves to the ceiling. I've heard his voice from time to time, Reciting blank in thund'rous chi Or caught a snatch of lyric rhyt Read with deep feeling. He's poor, or would he live 80 h That is, one floor below the sk His mind may be errat in good books by many vast and var ‘A POOR DEBTOR. Hee, take this bill to Jones and tell him if be doesn’t pay it by to” No use Wr; he can’t pay it, He don't get any bigger aalary than I do.” OUR NEW HELP, Vy. Tonorah. what are you doing litle ahpare tolne afther, bastin’ the duck as yez tonld me, an’ OI others.” fought be wud look a bié betthet av Oi sewed a few buttoas on his That's all. For weeks and months the same; None calls. I've never heard his name. alone, but gayly. T've never crossed his theesbola, nor Has his kind face looked in my door ; But, strange, I could not love him more If he came daily, It were vain to guess, For men have callings number What good or use to know it have been a beau, the rage Of East Broadway, or trod the stage. Or rhymed when Willis was first sage And fop and poet. ave been a criti So? Then he | ‘And got Me may have Bright names and faces—in the hall I hear his cough and slow foot-fall, My garret neighbor. Leoxann A FRIEND INDEED. In a Paris salon “In short, M. Birrot,” said a mincing baroness, ‘if some one should ask you my age what would you say 1?” “Be easy, baronne ; I should certainly take off fifty per cent.” CONSIDERATE. to trouble you, sir; poverty compels me to.” Victim— ‘Why don't you work at some decent business 7” Robber—* What! Would you have me throw the police out of employment ¢” NOT IN THAT BUSINESS. De Garmo (head of a boys’ school)—“' [assure you, Miss de ivilege to be Hs the dear boys day after Miss de Peyster— Ah, yes; it must be delightful to teach the young idea how to shoot.” De Garmo— Excuse me, Miss de Peyster ; I do not conduct a shoot- ing school.” A NEW GaG. Actor—“How did my gags go last night ?” Manager—* First rate. Some one sent one to me to: that he would like to have you try to-night.” Actor—“* What Manager—"A of cod-liver oil.” A HOPELESS TASK. Husband —** What I we do for my wife tod: or— Keep her from talking for thre hours and she will get well.” Husband—*‘ Well, as you go down town stop in the undertaker's and leave the order, will The postman passes the old maid’s door,